


Wasp Nest

by mothwebs



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bugs & Insects, Minor Violence, Paranoia, Role Reversal, TMA, The Corruption, magnuspod, minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23799265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothwebs/pseuds/mothwebs
Summary: Creator of 'The Hive', a new and emerging insect-themed podcast, Jane Prentiss and her assistant Jonathan receive a harrowing warning against things to come.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Wasp Nest

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for @mushroomstairs on tumblr, for their Jane/Jon swap AU!

“Jane, are you finished in there yet?”

A soft thump upon the table as she sets down the headphones. Jane moves to open the door, smiling warmly at the man holding a freshly-printed stack of papers.

“Hi Jon! Come on in, I’ve just wrapped up the latest episode. Someone had an _amazing_ story about this massive wasp’s nest inside a-”

“Nope, no-no-no-no-no thank you! Don’t finish that sentence, I have absolutely _no interest_ in hearing about wasps, I’d rather sleep peacefully tonight. For once.”

Jane shakes her head as she pulls down two mugs from the cabinet and fills a pot with tea leaves. “Oh, Jon, where do you think a wasp’s nest would be? This isn’t a fiction-horror podcast we’re making here, it’s just one for collecting fun facts and odd experiences.”

“A wasp’s nest could be anywhere, just waiting for you to find it. Under the sink, your b-bed, the closet, in the ceiling. And it’s even worse if you _don’t_ find it! You’d never know until it’s too late.” Jon laughs shakily as he carries the past scripts and stories over to be stored in the archive cabinet. Each page has but one hurried glance at the title before it’s sorted and stored away, hidden, out of sight for good so it doesn’t agitate his nest of fears any further. 

“…It was a tree, Jon. Just a tree, the most normal place you could find one.” She sighed, amusement playing slightly at the corners of her smile. “Were you expecting it to be like a Stephen King novel, where it’s living inside a person?”

Jon swallowed nervously and chose to ignore the last remark and the tremor in his fingers. “I don’t…. Well, listen, J-Jane, some of the stories you’ve received…. I think - Well, it’s not like I’m saying they aren’t _true_ …..I mean, I wish I _could,_ you know, b-because they’re….. I j-just… Listen - you know - you know I don’t like them, b-but these….. they’re so odd….. getting _worse_ , even….”

“Jon. Deep breaths.” Jane rests a hand on Jon’s shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze to ground him, her tone shifting immediately as she recognised his rising anxiety. “You know, you’re not wrong - some of the submissions probably have been dramatised. Not _every_ story’s going to make it into the podcast if there’s not much difference between them, so people are probably spicing them up a little. This may indeed take a turn for the more fictional route.” 

“Yeah…..” Jon shakily takes a breath and closes the drawer of the cabinet. “I hope so.”

“There’s no need to worry, promise. Spiders never grow bigger than they normally do, wasps don’t live inside people, and worms can’t attack anything intentionally because they don’t have brains. If the podcast’s stories say otherwise then you’ll _know_ it’s not real.”

Jon shivered. “Again, I hope so.”

The kettle boils and two streams of steaming water are poured into each mug. Jane hums softly as she clicks the save button on her recording and passes Jon his tea.

“Why do you like bugs so much, Jane?” 

“Because they’re less buggy than people.” Her laugh is a cricket’s chirp, high-pitched and short-lived. “They’re just… interesting. _Fascinating._ They’re almost like complete aliens, Jon! They’re so different and beautiful. And they can behave so weirdly, and do funny things to their bodies, and sing songs, and some can live for only a few hours while others like termites can live for _years on end._ You can learn so much from insects! And - well, not many people like them, obviously, so I kinda like looking at that aspect, too. They’re always around us, you’d think people would get used to them, right? So what makes bugs so scary to some people? What are they really afraid of?”

…Jon sips his tea and remains quiet. He stares at the loading sign on Jane’s laptop, the little train of colourless circles chasing each other over and over, spinning in swarming circles like his thoughts always did anytime he had to think about-

“Hey - you still there, buddy?”

“I’m fine.” He snaps, avoiding eye contact and taking another gulp of his drink, before he sighs and sets the mug on the table. His hands are shaking a bit too much to hold it steady. “I j-just - well, you kinda lost me on…. b-bug-talk…. I mean, ‘s a given… like I never was a fan of horror stuff, you know, and-”

“Wait, Jon, are you scared of insects?”

“…I never said that. B-but… um, well - you’re not exactly wrong.”

“Forgive me if this is… a bit on-the-nose, but w ~~hy do~~ you work with me if you hate insects so much?”

“It’s tolerable. You’re tolerable, you’re a nice friend, J-Jane. You don’t force me to like insects - and sure, sometimes you tell me the stories… but ‘m glad you don’t b-barrage me with them - like, all the time. I just make sure the printed scripts get filed away properly and publish the audio on schedule, I don’t have to read or hear anything more than I have to. It’s a lot of work - making a podcast all on your own. I felt b-bad thinking you’d have no-one to help, so…” 

“I see.” Jane hums to herself in thought. She drums her fingers against her arms for a few moments, before sitting up and clearing away the drinks, closing her laptop and slipping it back into its pouch. “Well, you’d better start letting me know if it gets too much for you, ok? Don’t want my friend having more panic attacks than necessary, especially if there’s nothing to panic about.”

“J-Just….” Jon swallows and attempts a small smile. “Just don’t overwhelm me with, like - the more harrowing stories, ok? Then we’ll be fine.” 

“Hey, no problems at all.” She smiles back. “Mind popping my laptop in the bag for me? I’ll wash up. And thanks for printing the scripts, it’ll really help with making sure I have everything archived.”

“You’re welcome, and sure.” Jon moves over to her bag and unzips it to place the fresh new audio inside, to be processed and mixed back at Jane’s home. “Um….. and, uh - I think, maybe - well, how are you going to look at the fear aspect in this podcast? I thought you wanted it to be less scary.”

“Well, you’re right, that was the initial plan. But, y’know, I think maybe we could work on adding in some more scary thoughts and discussions to help people deal with their fears! Like, the whole nature of fear is so fascinating, especially in regards to-”

A scream decapitates her sentence and makes her drop the sponge in her hand. Head whipping round, she spots Jon clambering up onto the table, laptop clutched in both hands, yelling and pointing at the bag. 

Something _inside_ the bag. 

Moving sluggishly, first surfaces a lump of bruised flesh, and then another, and another, unfolding out of the bag and slumping onto the ground like a diseased slinky. The last lump to come out brings with it a wet, blood-stained maw, all rows of knife-like teeth set in a spiral down its throat. It hisses violently at Jon up on the table, before launching itself at the table leg and starting to worm its way up with frightening speed. Jon’s screams grow louder as he stomps on the wood in an effort to shake it off. 

Panicked, Jane fumbles through the cupboards until she finds a good-enough weapon. Sprinting forwards, she deftly yanks the creature off the table and chucks it to the floor, before raising the cooking pot above her head and bringing it down upon the creature’s. Over and over, mashing it into the carpet until the wiggling movements finally cease. 

There’s a long, uncomfortable pause. 

“Well…” Jane panted, nudging the corpse with the toe of her shoe. “Don’t know what the _fffffffuck_ that was. Did it bite you, Jon, are you hurt?”

Jon doesn’t reply. He sets the laptop carefully down on the table, and then reaches down and pulls something out from the pool of guts and chipped teeth and blood. A card, a piece of paper with tiny cramped handwriting. He reads it silently, mouthing the words, before flipping it over to look at something on the other side. 

“……Jon?”

“You need to stop this.” 

Jane blinks, watching him shove the card into her hands and get off the table, heading straight for the door. “Wait - wait, what do you mean? Where are you going?!”

“Stop looking into this.” Jon remarks, eyeing the card with noticeably more apprehension than the remains of the worm. “I - Look, I don’t know where that thing came from or - or what it wanted, b-but this is getting dangerous. I didn’t write the card b-but I don’t disagree with it, either. Keep looking at this shit and one day something scary is going to scar you permanently, J-Jane.”

The door swings shut. Footsteps are heard hurrying down the stairs, echoes still ringing for minutes on end to match her racing heart. Jane’s hand automatically comes up to pick at her lip as she tries to process what just happened. What did he mean…

She glances down at the card in her hands, blood and gunk oozing down the edges as the words she reads make her own run cold.

_“Sharp-eyed flies are no smarter than blind arachnids in the face of fear. You are no more resistant than they are to the worms in their ears and the wasps in their heads. :)”_


End file.
